


Shit On

by kutsushita



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Bullying, Diarrhea, Enemas, Kink Meme, Poisoning, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kutsushita/pseuds/kutsushita
Summary: In junior high, Hatake and friends use castor oil in their bullying of Mihashi





	Shit On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> Written a few years ago for a kink meme fill

He's used to sitting on the bench by himself, used to being ignored by his teammates. That's what makes it so strange when Miyagawa approaches him.

"Here, Mihashi," he says, and he's smiling, holding out a cup of water. Mihashi darts his eyes toward and away from it, not sure what's happening. It seems like Miyagawa is offering the cup to him, but why would he, when...

"Just take it," says Miyagawa, his voice going a little tighter. He reaches out and grabs Mihashi by the forearm, pulls his arm up so his hand touches the cup. Mihashi shakily wraps his fingers around it.

"Th-th-" Mihashi starts to stay, but Miyagawa cuts him off with a mumbled "Don't mention it," and walks back to the other side of the dugout.

Miyashi pulls his arm back toward him and looks at the cup. Why would Miyagawa bring water to him? He's worthless, and his teammates know it and hate him for it. They're right to hate him for it. He holds the cup above his knees in both hands and stares morosely at its contents. If he were a better pitcher, if he weren't so useless... He feels tears welling in his eyes and tries to choke them back, lifting the cup to his mouth and chugging down its contents to distract himself. It doesn't really work, and his tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, his throat strained. He clutches the empty cup in his hands again and it crumples a little.

The tears have stopped when it's time to play defense again, and Mihashi just feels tired, a little raw. He walks out to the mound and none of his teammates acknowledge him, as usual. When he looks up under from the brim of his cap Hatake is there at home, staring at him like he always does.

Mihashi knows. It's his fault. He won't give up the mound.

The game ends with a loss. They line up across from the other team and bow, and then Mihashi's teammates disperse, once more ignoring him. Their coach takes little interest in any of them. Mihashi loiters by the dugout while the rest of them change, feeling queasy and tearful again. When he thinks most of them should be gone, he makes his way slowly to the locker room, and lets out a sigh of relief when there doesn't seem to be anyone inside. He sits and shrugs out of his uniform shirt, folding it on the bench next to him. He wants to go home, wants to pitch more, wants to be better-

"Yo, Mihashi," says someone from behind him, and Mihashi jumps, then turns. Hatake is standing there with Miyagawa and Yoshi. They've changed out of their uniforms. Mihashi begins to tremble. He thought they were gone, thought he was safe, but Hatake is going to--

"How do you feel?" Hatake asks, and Mihashi blinks. Hatake's not yelling, not grabbing him and threatening him. He actually sounds ...interested? His stare is bland, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Is this... Mihashi wonders if this is connected to Miyagawa offering him water earlier, if his teammates have moved past hating him and now just feel sorry for him. He feels sobs clawing up his throat again, because he doesn't deserve it, he--

"How does your _stomach_ feel?" Hatake asks more pointedly, nodding his head down at Mihashi's midsection.

His...?

"My... My stomach?" Mihashi haltingly brings one hand up to rest on his stomach, and it jumps a little. He's been feeling a little ill since near the end of the game, but that's nothing unusual. He always feels sick with himself when he loses.

"Hmmm," says Hatake, and then he suddenly leans in. Mihashi tries to shrink back into himself, but there's only air behind him, and if he leans away too far he'll fall on his back. Hatake's not in his face, though; he's staring at Mihashi's stomach, his eyebrows knit together, and then he brings his hand forward. Mihashi cringes, expecting to be hit, but Hatake just pokes him a few times in the belly, prodding. "Hmmm," he says again."

Mihashi doesn't know what's going on.

Hatake sighs, and then leans back. He turns to the other two, who have been silent this whole time. "Looks like we didn't give him enough," he says.

"But," Miyagawa, "you measured the same amount it said to use on the internet. And we all watched, and saw him drink it all."

"Maybe he sweated it off or something," suggests Yoshi earnestly.

None of them are looking at Mihashi, turned toward each other and conversing. Mihashi starts shaking more, the back of his neck turning cold and clammy with sweat. What... What are they...

The three teammates hold a silent congress for a few moments, and Mihashi starts inching slowly along the bench, hoping they'll forget him, that maybe they won't notice and he'll get away.

"Tch," says Hatake decisively. "We'll just have to do it the other way."

"Hatake..." says Miyagawa, frowning. "Maybe it just, didn't it say it takes a while to kick in?"

"I'm sick of waiting," snaps Hatake, and he turns sharply and pins Mihashi with his glare, only about half a foot away from inching down the bench. "Grab him."

That gets Mihashi's heart pounding in his throat and his legs moving, pushing him off the bench and running for the door, but it's too slow and too late. Miyagawa and Yoshi are on him, pressing him down on the floor. His knees and elbows sting where they hit the hard floor, probably not injured, but throbbing from the sudden impact.

"Pull him up, pull him up!" yells Hatake. "Stick something in his mouth, too. Then drag him over here to the showers." He walks around the corner, out of view.

Miyagawa pulls Mihashi up to his feet and holds him, and Yoshi moves away and then returns with a dirty sock, which he shoves in Mihashi's mouth. Mihashi is too stunned to yell anyway, shaking on his knees and gagging on the sock stale with sweat and dirt, pressing down his tongue. He tries to gulp in breaths of air through his mouth but it's hard to do around the sock, and he feels dizzy, he's going to fall over-

"Oops," says Miyagawa as Mihashi goes slack in his grip and almost falls. Yoshi lunges over to help grab the pitcher, and the two of him hoist Mihashi up together, but now that he's not standing on his own he's heavy, and their arms shake a bit unsteadily.

"What are you waiting for?" Hatake returns, poking his head around the row of lockers.

"He went slack!" says Yoshi, "It's hard to hold him when he's not standing on his own."

"What, that little scrawny shit? Give me a break," sneers Hatake. "You should be able to handle a lot more weight than that." He strolls over to them, shoves Yoshi aside, and hoists Mihashi by his armpit, slinging his other hand around his waist. "You okay there, Miyagawa?"

"Okay," says Miyagawa, steadying himself on Mihashi's other side. They lift the pitcher slightly so his feet don't drag on the ground, and carry him toward the showers.

To the side of the room, under one of the showerheads, is one of the tubs from the water cooler. It's nearly empty, but there is some water in the bottom of it.

The drop Mihashi on the tile floor, but he catches himself with his palms this time, and his knees don't hit very hard. The sock is still in his mouth, now soaked with his spit and bile, and he starts to push it out with his tongue when his head is slammed down onto the floor.

All Mihashi can see is tile. He feels the sudden urge to vomit, and his attempts at breathing through his rapidly worsening gulping sobs are so loud it's almost hard to hear the others talking above him. But he hears Hatake say something, and then he feels someone's hands reaching around his waist, working the fastening of his pants.

He flails, but the hand pressing his head down holds firmly, and then there's a pressure on his back and a hand holding one of his wrists, something else (a shoulder?) weighing down the other. Mihashi tries to press forward instead, to bring his hips down to the floor where they won't be able to reach him, but someone presses his knees forward under him and now his pants are undone, now they're pulling his pants and underwear down past his waist.

He manages to press the sock out of his mouth at least, and through his gulps Mihashi tries yelling. It sounds weak and tinny to his ears, so much quieter than the pounding of his heart and the heaving of his breaths, and then his ears are ringing as well when something hits him in the side of the head.

"Shut up!" Hatake voice is right next to his ear now, breathing hard and hissing out the words along with hot air and flecks of spit. "You little shit. We aren't even going to hurt you. Just going to help you embrace what you really are: shit. You stink up this team and you crap all over us, and you ruin our chances of winning every game we play. Maybe if you fucking understood what if feels like to shit all over yourself for a change you'd finally give up the mound like you should have done from the start. So just keep your mouth shut and we won't do anything that would really make you sorry."

Mihashi can tell when Hatake moves away because the breathing on his ear and neck are gone, and the weight on his upper body lifts for a moment, but then someone else is there replacing Hatake and holding him down again. He hears something, a kind of sloshing. His stomach turns.

"Hatake..." someone says, Mihashi can't tell which of the other two. Whichever one is holding his legs and hips in place. "Are you sure you got the right measurements? What if something goes wrong, or...?"

"I got it right," says Hatake gruffly. "Stop being such a pussy. Just hold him."

For a moment all Mihashi hears is his own heavy panting. Then, the sloshing again, and--

He spasms, pressing himself forward and away, and he's able to move a little bit; whoever is holding him down now isn't as strong as Hatake. Something hard and plastic is against Mihashi's ass, and water splashes on his ass and thighs, onto the floor below him. 

"Fuck!" Hatake yells. More sloshing, and something being dropped and settling on the floor. "Okay, hold on, I have an idea."

Mihashi is still struggling, fueled by adrenaline now, but he has never wrestled even for fun, and the two above him struggle some too, but keep pressing down, and all Mihashi is able to do is move around on the floor a bit, not to gain his footing or get himself away.

And then Hatake is apparently back from wherever he went, because something is pressing against his ass again, but in between his cheeks, and smaller than before.

"Here you go," says Hatake, and then it's pressing him open, pressing into him, and Mihashi tries to move his hips forward but his torso is held firm and he can barely move his knees, and the object pressing into his ass follows him, and then--

It's in, and it doesn't hurt very much, it's not very big, and it's not pressing in any further, but it feels weird, and whatever it is is moving somewhat, rotating upward, and then he feels it, the weirdest sensation, water being poured into his ass.

"Can you hold that?" one of them says, and another says "Sure" and there's more sloshing, but Mihashi is...

He tries to clench his ass, and one of them curses at him and he is hit, hard, on his left ass cheek. Mihashi cries out, because it stings, and whatever is in his ass presses further inside, and he can't keep it out by clenching any more. The water is filling him up, but then it stops, and then suddenly the object is removed, and Mihashi clenches and struggles again, but a moment later it returns and is pressed back into him.

More water is flowing. He can really feel it now. It's weird, sloshing in his stomach, and he feels so ill. He's been feeling ill since the game, of course, and it always gets worse when he loses, and the sock in his mouth, now pressed up against his face and nose, is making him want to vomit, and he feels the bile rising up in his throat again and--

"Oh, sick!" yells the one holding his head, and the pressure is gone from Mihashi's upper body, but it doesn't do anything to help him. He's heaving onto the floor, his shoulders jerking back and forth, his vomit tinted yellow-green and mostly watery. It comes out of him again, splashing onto the puddle on the floor, and then Mihashi gulps in a shaky breath, a trail of sticky vomit hanging from his lip toward the floor.

The one who was holding his head and torso doesn't return, and the object in his ass is gone too, and for a moment Mihashi just sits there, trying to breathe loudly, haltingly. His eyes are wet and sore. He tries to manipulate his mouth into spitting and some of the vomit still on his lips falls.

And then Mihashi realizes no one is holding his arms or upper body any more, and the pressure on his legs has lessened as well, and he scrabbles against the tile to pull himself forward.

The other yell in unision and press down on him again, his face slammed back to the floor and splashing against the puddle of vomit. Mihashi chokes and turns his head to the side so he can breathe, and the stink of the vomit is filling his nostrils and he feels more rising up, and heaves again.

They don't release him this time, though, and the thing is pressing in his ass again, more water filling him. His stomach is twisting, his abdominal muscles spasming, and Mihashi moans, and one of them above him says, "Hatake, how much longer is it supposed to be?"

And then something inside Mihashi shifts. He stills for a moment, because he- he knows that feeling, he- oh no, he's going to--

He does. His bowels loosen, and with the thing still pressed against his ass, a watery stream of shit comes gushing out from inside him. The thing is quickly removed, as is the guy holding down his legs, and he hears them yell again. The shit is sliding down from between his ass cheeks, past his thighs, dropping onto his still-clothed ankles and feet tucked up below them. It's mostly liquid. Mihashi's stomach twists again and more of it comes gushing out. He can't smell it; all he can smell is the vomit his face is still pressed into, and this brings the bile up again and then he's heaving once more, and it's spilling out of him from both ends, spasming and gushing onto his legs and the floor. The pressure on his head is gone now, and he tries to push himself up on his hands a little but he can only manage a few inches, just enough to watch it splash out onto the backs of his shaking hands and fingers splayed in front of him.

"There, you see?" says someone in a smug voice, and Mihashi is able to realize through his daze that it's Hatake. "Now you know what it's like, to be shit all over."

"Ugh, it really stinks, though, Hatake," says someone else... Yoshi? "It happened, so can we get out of here now?"

"Well, maybe we should clean some of this up," says Miyagawa. And then water splashes on the back of his head and Mihashi yelps and flinches toward the floor. None of them are holding him at all any more, and the water shocks him enough that he is suddenly able to move a bit, sliding his knees forward and sideways, rolling onto his side and out of the puddle of vomit. With the movement his stomach clenches again, though, and he feels another small burst of shit come out of his ass, seeping down the side of his inner thigh.

"Fuck," says Hatake crossly. The cleanup hadn't really occurred to him. "Yeah, you're right, but didn't it say he's going to keep having it all night? Maybe we should come early and clean it up tomorrow."

"We can't leave him in here all night!" says Miyagawa, his voice raising. "What if someone finds him?"

"Okay, okay," says Hatake. "Um..."

"Here." Yoshi walks toward Mihashi, and he tries to scoot backward on the tile but his stomach is cramping so badly he can barely move, so he doesn't make it very far. Yoshi walks around behind him and then Mihashi feels his trousers being pulled back up, soaked through with his wet shit. He moans and trembles as Yoshi lifts his hips a little so he can get Mihashi's trousers the rest of the way up. Yoshi reaches around to fasten the front, and then stands. 

"So let's carry him outside, and then we can clean up in here so he won't make a mess any more."

"All right!" yells Hatake.

Miyagawa, however, shifts his weight anxiously between his legs. "But how is he going to make it home? He can't ride a bike like that."

The three of them turn to regard the moaning Mihashi, curled up on his side in the fetal position, clutching at his knees, gasping and trembling.

"Do either of you know his phone number?" asks Yoshi, turning back to the other two.

"Doesn't he live with his relatives or something?" says Miyagawa.

"Ah, wait," says Hatake. "I think Kanou knows them." He frowns. "But Kanou..."

"So we say he just got sick after the game!" says Yoshi. "Everyone knows he gets ill all the time when we lose. It's not that weird. Just call Kanou and say we happened to stick around and Mihashi told us he was feeling sick."

Hatake scowls, then sighs. "Yeah, all right," he says. But then he walks over to Mihashi again, and kneels down behind him, away from the pools of shit and vomit.

"Hey," he says in a low, threatening voice, his breath once again hot on Mihashi's ear and neck. "If you fucking tell anyone, _anyone_ about this, it'll be so much worse. We didn't even really hurt you at all, you little shit. We just gave you a taste of what it's like for us, being forced to play with you as a pitcher. You fucking deserve this. So just remember that and don't you dare tell anyone, you understand?"

Mihashi just gulps and trembles and clutches at his cramping abdomen, and then his hair is grabbed and he's yanked back harshly. "Hey!" Hatake yells at the side of Mihashi's face. "Fucking nod, okay? Nod your head! Do you understand?!"

And Mihashi does, he nods, shaking, choking as more bile rises up in his throat. Hatatke lets up on his grip a bit, and says, "Okay, help me out here," to the others, who come to assist him. "We'll wash down this stuff, and then carry him out by the road."

Mihashi isn't struggling any more, so between the three of them it's pretty easy to carry him. When they get to the street, Yoshi calls Kanou and asks if he can contact Mihashi's family and let them know he got sick after the game and needs a car or taxi or something to pick him up. Miyagawa fidgets and Hatake scowls, and Mihashi sits crumpled by the side of the road, half leaning over into the fetal position again, trying as hard as he can to keep his butt clenched tight so he wno't shit any more as his digestive system fights against him.

"Er, do you think we should stay with him?" asks Miyagawa when Yoshi gets off the phone.

"We don't need to stay," scoffs Hatake. "He's going to be fine. Those websites said people use it for medical stuff all the time."

"Miyagawa's right, we probably should stay. His relatives think he got sick after the game and his teammates found him. It wouldn't seem right if we just left him by the side of the road," Yoshi points out.

"Fuck, you're right." Hatake sighs. "Okay. They'd better fucking get here fast. And you!" He raises his voice, and prods Mihashi with his foot. Mihashi twitches and tries to curl further into himself. "Remember what we fucking said! Don't you dare say a fucking thing!"

It takes a little while, but Mihashi's aunt does come, and Ruri is with her. She cries out when she sees Mihashi huddled at the side of the road, and beings to run toward him, but then stops and jerks backwards. "What's... What's that smell?" she says in a little voice. "What's wrong with Ren-Ren?"

The three boys exchange glances, and each can see that the others feel a little guilty. But fuck, Hatake thinks, that shit still totally deserves this, and he clears his throat and says, "Ahh, yeah, Mihashi got really sick during the game. We tried to clean him up, but..."

"Thank you," says Mihashi's aunt, moving past her daughter to kneel and put her arm on Mihashi's trembling shoulder. "He's so lucky to have teammates looking out for him. Ruri, Ren-Ren is ill and needs our help, so please come over here."

Even Hatake starts to feel himself becoming a little ill now, being _thanked_ , and-- "Um," he says. "We, uh. We're late getting home, so is it okay if we...?"

"Please." Mihashi's aunt looks up at them. "Please just help us carry him to the car, if you could. I don't think we can manage on our own."

"Of course," says Hatake gruffly. He turns to the other guys, who are now both staring at the ground, looking glum. His own stomach lurches a little more. They were just... They were just teaching Mihashi a lesson, right? It said online that people did this for punishment all the time. It was no big deal. Mihashi was going to be fine. He deserved it.

When they lift Mihashi under his armpits this time, he doesn't even flinch away at all. He just hangs there, limply, moaning and breathing unsteadily. Hatake hears something like a wet fart and smells more shit in the air and knows that Mihashi has shit his pants a little bit more.

He totally deserved it. Right?


End file.
